Friendless Lane

by Helen Black

  ‘How about this one?’ she asked Brenda.

  ‘That’s Mr Hussain,’ said Brenda. ‘He’s probably very busy.’

  ‘He looks like a friendly type,’ said Julia.

  Brenda looked unsure. Clearly, the protocol for a tour did not involve seeing anything or speaking to anyone.

  Julia put her knuckles up to rap on the door. ‘I’m sure he won’t mind.’

  ‘It’s not really how we do things here at Field High School,’ said Brenda.

  Too late. Julia had already knocked and was letting herself into the classroom.

  [#]

  Jack fidgeted as he waited in the reception at Rowntree.

  He couldn’t believe he was in this mess. Was the lorryload of trouble over Hussain not enough for one man to deal with? What made matters worse was that he had brought it all on himself.

  The internal door opened and Dr Alerdice peered out. He jumped to his feet.

  ‘Thanks ever so much for coming,’ she said.

  ‘No problem,’ Jack answered.

  He followed her through the hospital to her office. He noticed this time that it had the same view as the visiting suite. The rooms must be situated along the same wall.

  Alerdice saw him looking out of the window and smiled. ‘It’s very nice, very peaceful.’

  He stepped over to the glass and took it in. The quiet expanse of lawn, the border of winter pansies. Another little bird was pecking away at the feeder.

  ‘I put them out there,’ said Alerdice. ‘A mixture of seeds and fat. It brings so many different species.’

  Jack thought of all the gardening he could do when he was fired. It surprised him that the thought didn’t horrify him. All these years staring into the dark heart of the criminal world had bleached him white and brittle. Perhaps it was time for a new life. He could concentrate on Alice; give her all the help and support she needed.

  Alerdice moved to her desk, but Jack stayed where he was.

  ‘As I told you on the phone, Kate has been making some claims about the propriety of her relationship with you,’ said Alerdice.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Obviously I wanted to alert you, but more than that, I wondered if this might be an opportunity to address her delusions directly.’

  Jack’s throat began to close and all he could manage was a strangled ‘Mmm.’

  ‘Kate has built up her own narrative,’ said Alerdice. ‘With her as the central character. It’s a bubble that is ever-expanding.’

  Outside, the birdsong seemed to get louder; the nipping chirrups had become ear-splitting squawks.

  ‘Personally, I think it’s time the bubble was burst,’ said Alerdice.

  Unable to speak, Jack frowned.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ said Alerdice. ‘I’m not proposing a melodramatic showdown. A simple denial on your part should suffice.’

  A denial. A simple denial. She made it sound so easy, so reasonable. All he had to do was say that he and Kate had never been lovers and that his recent visit had been police business.

  ‘Okay?’ Alerdice asked.

  ‘Okay.’ His voice was so hoarse, he could barely hear it himself. ‘Okay,’ he repeated.

  Alerdice pursed her lips and paused as if she thought he might have something else to say. When he didn’t speak, she made for the door.

  ‘I’ll fetch Kate.’

  Alone in the office, Jack put his face in his hands. He couldn’t lie. He knew he couldn’t. He might try to say the words, but the truth would fall out. If he lied, how would he be any better than all those people he’d put away over the years? He’d have to admit the grubby reality: he’d been in love with Kate, and when he came to see her, it had been wholly inappropriate and personal. Then Alerdice would call the Chief Super and Jack would be given as much time to birdwatch as anyone could ever need.

  He looked at the picture on the wall. The Giant’s Causeway looked back at him with all its dark majesty. He’d have the time to take Alice there. She might like the huge skies and the endless grey sea, the way the wind howled even on the sunniest of days. They could walk along the beach, visit his folks, live an ordinary life. It could all be so very good.

  [#]

  I’m not a fan of violence.

  I know that over the years so-called professionals have said I enjoy it, but as usual, they’re wrong. I’m not afraid of violence, it’s true to say, particularly when there’s no other choice, but that’s not the same thing, is it?

  There’s a woman here who says it’s better than sex. She enjoys it so much she says the sound of her fist on flesh can make her come. It’s got her into all sorts of trouble. She ended up killing her mother when she really didn’t mean to, but when the knife slid into her mama’s gut, the orgasm was so good she couldn’t resist having another and another.

  I’m not like that at all. If and when violence becomes necessary, I don’t feel any pleasure. Truth be told, I don’t feel anything at all. I really would make a very poor serial killer.

  Jenny finds me on the sofa in the recreation room and slides in next to me, taking my hand in hers. Honestly, she’s like a guard dog, which is rather sweet if you think about it. I rest my head on her shoulder.

  We’ve worked out that the danger I’m in is real and serious. We’ve also worked out exactly who the danger is coming from. The birds are very informative.

  Jenny says I’m not to worry, that she won’t let any harm come to me. She says she’ll do whatever it takes, and I believe her.

  The door opens and Alerdice walks in. I stiffen, and Jenny emits a low growl.

  ‘Kate.’ Alerdice gives one of her fake smiles, like someone’s sliced open her face from ear to ear. ‘Could you come with me?’

  I squeeze Jenny’s hand tightly.

  ‘There’s someone in my office to see you.’

  I’m nonplussed. It’s a feeling I don’t often experience and it makes me dizzy.

  ‘A guest?’ I say. ‘How nice.’

  I lean into Jen-Jen and whisper, ‘I’ll be safe with a third person present.’

  She thinks for a second, then releases my hand, and I follow Alerdice to her office. Who on earth can be here to see me? Who even knows I’m here?

  When the door opens and I see Jack standing there, I almost laugh at what a silly billy I’ve been. Of course it would be him.

  ‘Hello, Jack,’ I say.

  He glances up and nods at me. Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look so terrible. Life without Kate is not suiting him at all. The lines on his forehead are etched deep, and the circles under his eyes are so pronounced it’s as if someone has been at him with a tin of black paint. And his clothes! Oh Lord, he’s never been a man known for his sartorial elegance, but he looks a fright. Crumpled trousers and jacket, stained and wrinkled tie. The poor man needs taking in hand.

  ‘Are you all right, Jack?’ I ask.

  ‘Oh, you know.’

  ‘Bad day at work?’

  He sighs, a sad, lonely sigh. ‘You could say that.’

  Alerdice coughs. She can’t bear to be the third wheel.

  ‘Kate,’ she simpers, ‘I recall that you told me that you and Officer McNally had a relationship prior to your coming to Rowntree.’

  I turn to Jack. ‘I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to get you into any trouble. It just sort of came out.’

  He looks away into the garden.

  ‘Jack, I would never do anything to hurt you,’ I say. ‘Not intentionally.’

  Alerdice walks across the room and stands next to Jack. ‘Now, Kate, we all know that you’re making this up.’

  ‘Making what up?’ I ask.

  ‘Your relationship with Officer McNally,’ she says. ‘It’s a figment of your imagination.’

  I look at her for a second and then burst out laughing. I know I shouldn’t, but it’s just so funny. She must be able to see the chemistry between us. Maybe she can’t. Maybe she is that stupid.

  ‘Officer McNally confirmed the truth t
o me earlier,’ says Alerdice. ‘You and he were never involved.’

  Jack is still staring out into the garden, engrossed by the birds on their feeder.

  ‘Jack?’ I say.

  ‘Perhaps you could repeat it now, Officer,’ says Alerdice.

  He drags himself away from the window and his face is as crumpled as his suit. Oh Jack, I thought better of you than this.

  ‘Kate …’ he begins.

  ‘Yes.’

  His mobile rings and he grapples for it. ‘Sorry,’ he says to Alerdice. ‘Police business.’ Then he stumbles from the room.

  [#]

  The handcuffs dug into the skin of Lilly’s wrists. The modern ones were made of high-tensile plastic with a slide lock designed to tighten if the wearer struggled, but even the slightest movement seemed to trigger it. How was anyone meant to keep still with their shoulders pulled so far back it felt as if they might dislocate spontaneously?

  ‘Could someone take these off, please?’ she asked the custody sergeant.

  The sergeant nodded and gestured to the WPC who had arrested Lilly.

  ‘She put up a good fight at the scene, Sarge,’ she said.

  ‘Oh for God’s sake,’ said Lilly. ‘You rugby-tackled me to the floor from behind. Of course I put up a fight.’

  ‘And she was holding a knife when we arrived,’ said the WPC.

  ‘Have you actually spoken to anyone about what happened?’ Lilly asked.

  The custody sergeant gestured again to the WPC, who did as she was told, albeit with a loud tut.

  Lilly groaned in ecstasy at the release and rubbed the deep welts around her wrists.

  ‘Okay?’ asked the sergeant.

  ‘I’ll live,’ Lilly replied.

  ‘I’m going to have to put you in a cell until we get this sorted,’ he said.

  ‘You’re joking.’

  The sergeant shrugged. It wasn’t his fault. Lilly was under arrest, so he had to follow procedure.

  ‘Can I at least have a cup of tea?’

  ‘Course,’ he said.

  He led her to cell number three, opened it and, with absurd chivalry, held the door for her.

  ‘Get Miss Valentine a cuppa,’ he told the WPC.

  She opened her mouth in disbelief at being asked to run errands for her suspect.

  ‘You do know that Miss Valentine is a solicitor, don’t you?’ he said.

  The WPC went puce. ‘I didn’t know that.’

  ‘She’s also Jack McNally’s …’ The sergeant’s voice trailed off and he looked to Lilly for help.

  ‘I’m the mother of his child,’ she said.

  ‘Shit,’ the WPC muttered and scurried off.

  The sergeant went to close the door and smiled apologetically. ‘It’s for your own protection. It’s like the Wild West today.’

  Lilly nodded, and he let the door clang shut.

  It was a weird feeling being in the cell. She had been in them lots of times, with lots of clients, but this was very different. On those occasions she’d had a purpose, been in control.

  She sat on the metal bed, the mattress thin and hard, the police-issue brown woollen blanket so scratchy it prickled her through the material of her trousers. It wasn’t silent in here; she could still hear the goings-on in the custody area outside, but as if through a pillow wrapped around her head.

  She surveyed the cell. It was empty apart from the bed and a toilet in the corner, without lid or seat (too easy to rip off and throw). She needed a wee, but sod’s law said the sergeant would walk in the second she pulled down her pants. This was what happened in police custody: you gave up all dignity and self-determination. No, you didn’t give them up, they were taken away. You instantly became powerless and vulnerable.

  At last the hatch opened and the custody sergeant peered in.

  ‘They’d like to ask you a few questions,’ he said.

  Lilly was up and waiting as he unlocked the door. She followed him into an interview room, where the WPC and an older male colleague were sitting at one side of a table. A steaming cup of tea sat at the other.

  ‘That’s for you,’ said the WPC.

  Lilly took a grateful sip. ‘Cheers.’

  ‘I’m sorry about earlier.’

  Lilly sighed. The WPC was young, early twenties at the most. The situation had been confusing to say the least.

  ‘No harm done,’ she said.

  The WPC exhaled a clearly relieved breath. ‘Can we ask what happened?’

  ‘Hadn’t you better caution me?’ Lilly asked.

  ‘Oh, that won’t be necessary.’

  ‘I’m still under arrest,’ said Lilly. ‘So you really ought to.’

  The WPC looked at her colleague, flustered.

  ‘You can de-arrest Miss Valentine,’ he told her.

  ‘Right.’ She brightened. Then coughed. ‘How do I …?’

  The male officer rolled his eyes and Lilly felt a twinge of annoyance. The WPC was a rookie; ten to one this was the first time she’d made an arrest on a serious offence. He should be supporting her, not making a show of her.

  ‘All you have to do is tell me I’m no longer under arrest,’ said Lilly. ‘Then advise the custody sergeant.’

  ‘Thank you.’ The WPC smiled. ‘Lilly Valentine, you are no longer under arrest.’ She scuttled out to the custody desk.

  The male officer shook his head and laughed, but Lilly gave him a stony scowl. No way was she going to collude with him in mocking a young woman just starting out in her chosen career.

  When the WPC returned, Lilly smiled. ‘Now what did you want to ask me?’

  ‘Perhaps you could just give us an account in your own words,’ said the WPC. ‘What happened at the school today?’

  Lilly took another sip of tea. What had happened appeared to her to resemble not an experience but an object, separate from herself and bubble-wrapped. Was it shock that made her view it this way?

  ‘I was at Field High School taking a tour when I saw Mrs Blythe,’ she said.

  ‘Did you know her prior to today?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Can you tell us how you know her?’

  ‘She’s a client.’

  ‘Why did she seek your advice?’

  ‘I can’t tell you that without her permission,’ said Lilly. ‘Confidentiality.’

  ‘Oh,’ said the WPC.

  ‘Anyway,’ Lilly pressed on, ‘we were both on the tour when we arrived at the English department and entered one of the classrooms.’

  The WPC checked her notebook. ‘A few of the other witnesses have stated that Mrs Blythe was very insistent about going into the classroom.’

  ‘We all were.’ Lilly nodded. ‘It was a very dull tour.’

  ‘One witness says that Mrs Blythe wouldn’t take no for an answer.’

  That would be Brenda. Lilly imagined her enjoying every moment of her time with the police.

  ‘I’d describe Mrs Blythe as eager to enter the classroom,’ she said. ‘But then we all were.’

  The WPC gave a polite smile. ‘What did Mrs Blythe do once she was inside?’

  Lilly let her mind roll backwards. Julia had opened the door, but Brenda had virtually pushed her out of the way to ensure she entered first. The kids and Hussain had all turned around with surprised faces.

  ‘Did Mrs Blythe speak to the teacher?’ asked the WPC.

  ‘Not straight away,’ Lilly replied. ‘He spoke to her first.’

  ‘What did he say?’

  Lilly paused to remember. Brenda had bustled in, apologizing for the interruption, offering to herd the group away, but Hussain had told her not to be silly, that prospective parents were always welcome. They’d all filed in, the pupils fidgeting and laughing and pointing at them. Hussain had made a joke about English being the world’s dominant language except amongst teenagers in Luton. The crowd had laughed, but Hussain’s smile soon slipped and he’d stared dead ahead. Lilly had followed his eyeline and found Julia staring right back at him.

>   ‘“You”,’ Lilly said.

  ‘“You”?’ the WPC repeated. ‘Are you certain?’

  ‘One hundred per cent,’ Lilly replied. ‘He said “You” and he didn’t take his eyes off her.’

  ‘And what did Mrs Blythe say in response?’ asked the WPC.

  ‘Nothing, she just nodded.’

  Lilly recalled the steeliness of that nod. Julia had lied about Hussain not being likely to recognize her. What was more, she clearly didn’t care.

  ‘Then what happened?’

  Lilly finished her tea. It had gone cold, the milk solidifying into a film. ‘Mrs Blythe walked up to him.’

  ‘Did she seem upset? Angry?’

  Lilly shook her head. Julia hadn’t just walked towards Hussain, she had glided. Like a figure skater sure of the ice and her every step.

  ‘Did she speak to him then?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And what did she say?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Lilly replied. ‘She had her back to me.’

  ‘And did the teacher speak?’

  ‘Yeah, he just kept repeating the same thing: “I don’t know, I don’t know.” He said it over and over.’

  ‘Then what?’

  Lilly pictured Hussain’s face. He hadn’t been scared, not really. Yes, he’d been surprised to find Julia in his school, worried even, but not frightened. At least not until she’d fished into her bag.

  ‘She pulled out a knife,’ said Lilly. ‘A huge knife.’

  [#]

  Jack screeched to a halt outside the station and found Lilly being shown out by a WPC. He jumped from his car and grabbed her by the arm.

  ‘Jesus Christ, are you okay?’

  ‘Fine,’ she replied.

  Relief flooded over him and he threw his arms around her, pulling him to his chest.

  The WPC cleared her throat in embarrassment, but Jack wasn’t letting go. No way.

  ‘Right then, I’ll be off,’ said the WPC and slunk back into the nick.

  When they’d called Jack to say that Lilly had been involved in a knife incident, he’d been out of his mind with worry. It had struck him, as he drove away from the Rowntree, that although the woman was one of the most maddening people he’d ever encountered, life without her in it, in any capacity, was unthinkable.